


That Girl Belongs to Me

by Zerrah



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Dom/sub, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Qunari Culture and Customs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-24 10:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7504645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrah/pseuds/Zerrah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in an alternate universe where the Qunari won their conquest of Thedas. </p><p>"<i>We trust that you took care of the traitor. We have a new prerogative for you. There is rumor of a mage that fell from the sky a few miles north of your location. We believe she is somehow related to the giant rift and influx of demons. She has an unusual mark on her hand. Sniff her out, and bring her back, willing or not. Keep her alive. </i></p><p>Iron Bull raised his eyebrow, now even more curious. While mages were respected for their place in Qunari society, they were little more than attack dogs, largely ignored and definitely not worth the attention of a top Ben-Hassrath spy. He briefly entertained the thought that this mage somehow caused the rift, but quickly quashed the idea; no one mage could be that powerful."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Iron Bull cradled the beer before him, ducking his head and keeping is gaze glued to the bottom of his mug. While he was unfamiliar with this town, it wouldn’t do for anyone to recognize him; the Ben-Hassrath were never known for their sloppiness. He took a swig, but barely tasted the frothy drink. 

“A world of free choices, where we can pick our own fate. No one to tell you what to do or who you need to be. Freedom.” 

His companion smiled slightly, as if he were momentarily somewhere else, and not in New Thedas. Iron Bull grunted in affirmation so the man knew he was listening, and took another swig. 

“I heard out west is different, I heard-,” the man, who was already rather twitchy and seemed ready to bolt despite being nearly as tall as Iron Bull himself, looked around the room with rapid eyes. He leaned closer and dropped his voice low. “I heard people out west aren’t under the same kind of pressure as the Qun here. They work hard, but they’re free to make their own decisions. It almost seems too good to be true!”

“Yeah.” Iron Bull cleared his throat. “We should be heading out. Let’s pay our tab and leave.”

His companion nodded vehemently. Iron Bull pulled the coin out of his pouch and tossed it to barmaid, who smiled and gave him a wink. Iron Bull smirked. Sexy. Full breasts, sweet lips. A shame she wasn’t a redhead. Still, he would have invited her back to his rooms under better circumstances.

They stepped out into the cold night air. Iron Bull barely glanced up to take note of the swirling green light in the sky. Eerie and dangerous, every time he looked it gave him chills. There had been a spike of darkspawn activity that the militia had been actively suppressing, and there was no denying the correlation. Iron Bull knew there must be a connection, but until he had answers, there was no use dwelling on what he couldn’t control.

“I…I want to thank you.”

Iron Bull grunted. “For what?”

“For letting me speak the truth. That can be…dangerous, saying the wrong thing to the wrong man. But I trust you.” He laughed and clapped Iron Bull on the shoulder.

Iron Bull felt a twinge of something in the pit of his stomach, but quickly suppressed it. “No problem. Let’s head over to camp.”

As they walked into the woods and the darkness swallowed up their forms, the man didn’t see the flash of the sword, and didn’t have a chance to even flinch as Iron Bull planted the blade through his back, piercing his heart. The human groaned and collapsed to the Earth, his fingers clawing the ground in useless purchase. When he finally stilled, his eyes staring up at the moon in glassy wonderment. 

Iron Bull wiped the blood off his blade with the hem of the man’s tunic. He already didn’t remember the man’s name, and it was much easier that way. The Ben-Hassrath gave him orders, and he followed them without question. This assassination had been a surprise, however, as the man hadn’t seemed like a miscreant, thief, or murderer. He had been nervous and giddy, as if aware of his fate and caught somewhere between wanting to flee and denying its inevitability. 

Iron Bull was still thinking about it when we walked back to the tavern, the patrons there give him curious and suspicious stares, paid for a room, and sat on the bed of the tavern’s second story. He eventually came to himself and sighed, pulled off his boots and removed his armor. The nervous man did have interesting things to say about the state of the Qun compared to other countries that had yet to be conquered. Iron Bull rarely questioned orders, but a traitor in ideology rather than action did not deserve death. At least, that’s what his gut told him.

He knew it would soon be time to submit himself for reeducation. 

When the Qunari had pushed south many years ago, men had put up a good fight, but it was nothing compared to the Qun’s military advancements, and the physical advantage the Qunari had in size and strength. The timing had also coincided with a mage rebellion, giving the Qun a perfect advantage. Many lives had been lost, but the Qunari also spared anyone who embraced their beliefs and committed to following orders. Of doing what they were told. 

It made Iron Bull bone weary when he thought of the influx of military advisors who had begun vying for power, and the Ben-Hassrath’s increasing lack of transparency even to their best agents. He started questioning the legitimacy of his orders, if they really protected the whole, or were just petty instructions from a power seeking paper pusher. He didn’t want to think about it.

A crow tapped on the glass of the tavern, snapping Iron Bull out of his gloomy thoughts. When he opened the window, the bird cawed at him, and presented its left foot with the attached rolled parchment. Iron Bull carefully removed it and watched the crow fly off into the darkness. 

New orders. The Ben-Hassrath typically gave him a few days following an assignment to issue a new one, so this must be urgent. Interesting.

_We trust that you took care of the traitor. We have a new prerogative for you. There is rumor of a mage that fell from the sky a few miles north of your location. We believe she is somehow related to the giant rift and influx of demons. She has an unusual mark on her hand. Sniff her out, and bring her back, willing or not. Keep her alive._

Iron Bull raised his eyebrow, now even more curious. While mages were respected for their place in Qunari society, they were little more than attack dogs, largely ignored and definitely not worth the attention of a top Ben-Hassrathi spy. He briefly entertained the thought that this mage somehow caused the rift, but quickly quashed the idea; no one mage could be that powerful.

Iron Bull grabbed his boots and began to put his armor back on. Sleep could wait. He was curious where this particular assignment led him.

 

* * *

“Any word on the war, brother?” the shopkeeper asked, smiling at Iron Bull as he sold him an apple, a slab of cheese, and a loaf of bread.

Iron Bull shrugged. “I hear we’ve made some progress in the north and nearly captured Val Royeax, but there’s no telling if we’ll keep it. Their mages are powerful and their militia is well organized.”

The shopkeeper clicked his tongue. “The world would be a better place without mages. Without a leash, they bring demons over from the fade. They need to be controlled, their powers contained.”

The shopkeeper’s wife slapped his arm. “Don’t be so harsh. They have their place just like everyone else. Poor things, can’t help themselves. I’ve heard stories that some of them have such terrible dreams…”

Iron Bull stuffed the cheese and bread into a pouch in his cloak, but kept the apple out and took a bite. He wandered around the market, searching. 

Iron Bull never had strong feelings one way or the other about mages. It didn’t seem comfortable the way some had that mask-helmet looking thing strapped to their head, but it wasn’t really his problem. The Ben-Hassrath never had a need to interact with mages directly. Some of them were easy on the eyes, but it wouldn’t do to stare. He did have at least a small degree of dignity, as mages were not exactly prime candidates for sexual partners. 

Most of the market was filled with Qunari, but there were a few elves and humans, maybe a dwarf, although Iron Bull suspected he might just be a short, stumpy fellow. Most of the population had been inducted into the Qun. Iron Bull had heard rumors of roaming elvish clans hidden in the deep woods south of Orleax. Being the weakest race politically, not to mention physically, Iron Bull highly doubted that. 

Chewing on his apple, he sat on a rock that was on the outskirts of the market. He saw two teens, what looked like an elf and human, entwined under a tree and kissing passionately. Not a smart move, and an invitation for harsh discipline or even reeducation, if they were caught. Sex served a purpose, but not in public and with such an open display of affection. Iron Bull snorted. Who was he kidding? He was young once. That sort of passion was fleeting, and probably wouldn’t last through the end of summer. Iron Bull sometimes wondered if love really existed or was just a whirlwind of hormones and unrealistic expectations. 

A commotion took his attention to the right, and he got to his feet and walked closer. Near the edge of the market stood three soldiers flanked by two collared mages. One of the soldiers had his hand at the side of a mage’s throat, hand tense as if ready to squeeze the breath out of her. And it was a her, delicate looking elf with full lips, long brown hair tied at the base of her neck, and faded lavender tattoos across her cheeks. She stood, stiff as a board, while the soldier spoke.

“—not a question. I _order_ you to make an example of this vermin.” The soldier spat the last word, and Iron Bull glanced down to see a terrified elven boy who looked no older than 14 summers, cowering on the ground before them. 

“Please, sir, my tribe is so hungry! I was only trying to feed my sisters…I swear I’ll work it off somehow, I’ll, I’ll—“ 

“Theft is not tolerated under any circumstance! It’s punishable by death, and we are letting you off EASY.” The kid looked back and forth between the soldier and the mage with wide eyes. 

The mage girl was staring straight ahead, her lower lip trembling slightly. While she looked frightened, she was clearly far from tamed. Iron Bull saw it in the way she clenched her jaw, how she kept her back straight and chin tilted up. Her gaze locked on to Iron Bull’s, and she refused to look away. 

The soldier leaned in closer, and said softly, “I’ll give you one last chance. If you don’t do as your told, I’m going to give you the flogging of your life, right here in front of everyone.” This time he did squeeze his grip, imprinting red marks into her neck. 

A lightning bolt fell from the sky and seemed to strike the elven boy, who cried out and covered his face with crossed arms. It circled him, however, and eventually landed on the soldier holding the mage, throwing him backward. 

The two remaining soldiers responded immediately, rushing to restrain her. One hit her across the face with the pommel of his blade, the other twisted her hands behind her back, pushing her leg down with his knee. Iron Bull heard rumbling in the distance that sounded like thunder, which he thought, with just a small amount of humor, did not bode well for any of these soldiers.

“What did I tell you? We should have brought her back to the capital. Should never have believed her story about getting separated from her Arvaarad because of some raiders. I’ve never heard of raiders around these parts, anyway.”

“You’re dead. If we hear another word from you, we’ll cut out your tongue!”

The mage girl twisted frantically in an attempt to push off the soldier, a rather pathetic attempt because of his huge Qunari bearing. Iron Bull glanced down and saw a green glow on the mage’s hand. 

Bingo.

“That girl belongs to me,” Iron Bull said, stepping forward. The soldiers, mage girl, and elven boy all stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. Where the hell did they think they were, a private quarters in some noble’s villa? Half the market was staring at them now. Iron Bull was tempted to report the soldiers for stepping out of line. Training, let alone disciplining mages in public, was not acceptable practice as much as he could remember.

The soldier who had been struck by the lightning bolt moved forward on shaky legs. His armor was scorched and he looked pissed. “Who are you?”

Iron Bull decided to pick the name he used while under ops, what he identified most strongly with in recent years. “I am the Iron Bull. And that mage belongs to me.” 

The soldier sneered. “You’re not dressed like any Arvaarad that I’ve ever seen. No, we’ll keep this elf girl until we have direct orders to release her.” 

“I’m following Ben-Hassrath orders.” The two soldiers holding the mage down seemed to respond to that, glancing at one another and then to their ring leader, who shook his head and then glared at Iron Bull.

The elven girl was studying him, her cheek pressed into the earth. She had stopped resisting and was complacent under the large Qunari form above her. 

Look, I’m only going to ask nicely once.” Iron Bull clutched the pommel of his axe and watched them calmly. “Let her go.”

In response, the three Qunari soldiers reached for their weapons. 

Iron Bull charged at the same moment a gale of ice pummeled the soldiers from the sky. The other mage, an olive skinned human, attempted to counter with blasts of fire, but a ball of ice shot from the ground and knocked him unconscious. Iron Bull struck down the soldier with scorched armor with one blow, whirled in a circle and gave the other two soldiers several cuts. They attempted to attack him at the same time. He was able to counter and strike one, and when he turned around the other soldier was encased in a ball of electricity, hair standing on ends. When he fell to the ground, his body continued to convulse with shock. 

Iron Bull looked around him. The fight couldn’t have lasted more than a minute. Apparently mages were more helpful in a fight then he realized. The elven boy was nowhere in sight, so he must have scrambled off during the skirmish. The mage girl had gotten back on her feet and was approaching him with a smile. 

Up close she was even prettier, with a smatter of freckles across her cheeks that paired well with the tattoos, highlights of blonde in her hair, and dark, sooty eyelashes. His gaze was inexorably drawn to the collar circling her throat, decorated with a pattern of golden dragons.

“Thank you. I appreciate your help…I’m not sure how I would have escaped…”

Iron Bull studied her. “Where would you have escaped to?”

To this, she averted her gaze, biting her lower lip.

“I take it there were no raiders?”

Again, she didn’t answer. Iron Bull shook his head, assessing his options. It would probably be save him some trouble if he just went with the straightforward approach. 

“So when I said you belonged to me, I was telling the truth.” She looked up at him sharply, her eyes a little wide and brows furrowed, but before she could speak he interrupted her. “I work for the Ben-Hassrath, and I have orders to find someone with that mark,” he point to her glowing green hand, “and bring her back with me. You can come willing, or not. It’s your choice. But it will be more pleasant for you if you cooperate.”

She seemed to wilt at that, her shoulders hunching, her expression crestfallen. “Ever since I arrived here I’ve been treated like an animal, no better than a dog. I can’t stand it…this is worse than being an elf.” 

“If you think this isn’t normal, I know that you weren’t raised among the Qunari. Everyone has their place, and it seems that you don’t know yours.” He grabbed her hand when she reached for the collar in an attempt to remove it. “Not a good idea. What do you think would happen if someone saw a Saarebas walking around without any kind of restraints? Guards would be called, and then there might be a fight we can’t win.”

She looked at him again, no longer smiling, and studied him with a blank expression. That was all right, she didn’t have to trust him or even like him. As long as she did as she was told. 

“What’s your name?” 

She was quiet for a while, and at first Iron Bull thought she wouldn’t tell him, and that he would spend the remainder of his trip calling her elf girl. Finally, she said, “Ellana.” 

“Ellana, let’s get out of here before we get company, or one of these idiots wakes up. Follow me.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still no sexytiems, but soon. Unbeta-ed, but if anyone wants to volunteer to beta, it would be much appreciated. Feedback is also appreciated. :)
> 
> A 'Saarebas' is a Qunari mage. An 'Arvaarad' is a Qunari that binds and holds a Saarebas, similar to a Templar. Qunari are much more strict with their mages than the Chantry, typically keeping them bound or leashed.

Iron Bull stole glances at Ellana and tried to ignore the way his skin seemed to itch. The little that he knew of mages linked them to the two things he hated most: demons and spirits. Iron Bull had always been taught that mages were wild and needed to be under constant surveillance, tamed, and Ellana was neither. 

As they walked through the marketplace, and then the village, Ellana glanced at the people around them with sharp, perceptive eyes. When a higher level official among the soldiers looked at them, she met his sight with a straight spine and square chin. Not at all frightened. And dangerous, just for being who she was.

The tension in his stomach was overlaid with something else…he supposed it was the dichotomy of a strong willed woman in a collar, meant to be tamed and controlled. A part of him wanted to test her limits, see what it would take to make her surrender and bend her knees to a greater authority. His gaze was drawn to the collar again and again, a reminder of her place.

“You’ve been staring at me for a while now,” Ellana said, startling Iron Bull out of his reverie. “What do you want to know?”

Iron Bull grunted. “You don’t seem like a typical Qunari mage.”

“How am I different?”

“Most Saarebas, for one, would have self-immolated if they had been separated from their Arvaarad.”

Ellana’s eyes widened and she bit her lip, but didn’t respond.

“Regardless, the faster we get you back to Ben-Hassrath headquarters, the better.”

“What will they do with me once I’m there?”

“I can’t tell you everything. Most of the information I receive is confidential.” The truth was, he wasn’t sure. The Ben-Hassrath had become so secretive of late that he never had a clear idea of what to expect, and more importantly, _why_ he was targeting certain people. She didn’t need to know that, though. “For the time being, I’ll keep you safe.” 

Ellana looked at him sideways. “Promise?”

That caused him to raise an eyebrow. “Yes. Worried about anybody in particular?”

Ellana shivered. “I…I don’t remember.”

“What do you mean?”

“I woke up and…” Her eyes were downcast; it was clear that she was either uncomfortable with revisiting the memory, or opening up to him. 

“…And?”

“I couldn’t remember anything. There is this big, empty space where my memory used to be.”

Interesting. “Where were you when this happened?”

“Close to Haven.” Ellana shook her head. “Listen, do you think these Ben-Hassrath would be able to help me? To recover my memories?”

“Maybe…” Iron Bull doubted that whatever the Ben-Hassrath had planned that it would be of much benefit to any mage, but he wasn’t going to say that. 

“Do you trust the Ben-Hassrath?” 

Iron Bull chuckled. “Of course I do. I don’t have a choice. And it’s much better to be in the good graces of the Ben-Hassrath than not. Trust is a matter of life and death in my profession.”

She nodded, but trembled, her hand moving to her collar. “I just want to feel safe.”

“There are other ways that I could help you feel safe,” he couldn’t help but murmur, but then followed with, “as long as I’m here, you have nothing to worry about. I’ve got your back.” He smiled at her, and she tentatively smiled back at him.

As they walked through the market, people shot them suspicious and even fearful stares, sizing Ellana up, then Iron Bull. He wasn’t exactly someone who faded into the background, taking into account his network of tattoos and eyepatch, but he wasn’t accustomed to be stared at like his head had been replaced with a nug. He coughed. 

“We’re not exactly slipping under the radar.”

Her eyes got big again. “What should we do?”

“I have an idea,” he took in her expression, prepared to read her reaction. “Let me lead the rope to your collar.” 

Her face flushed red, and reached the tips of her ears. “What will that do?”

“They’ll think I’m your Arvaarad.” 

“We don’t have it with us…”

He pulled it out from one of his pockets and dangled it in front of her face, and she recoiled. Her lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I swiped it from the soldier you electrocuted. Up to you, boss. I think it would help our cover until we get to a more remote area. But if you’d rather not…”

Ellana shook her head. “I’d rather not risk ending up in the wrong hands again.” She sighed, then lifted her neck to allow him access to bind the collar to the leash.

Iron Bull felt an uncomfortable rush of heat at her pose of submission. She didn’t want this, and he felt guilty for getting an even small amount of enjoyment out of it. Gritting his teeth, he gently laid a hand at the side of her neck, thumb pressed into the soft juncture of her throat and jaw. Her gaze met his as he snapped the leash in place. For a moment, the air seemed electric, and Iron Bull began to lean forward…

She turned away, and the weird tension evaporated.

He took a couple of steps back, careful to not pull too hard or put any pressure on her neck. When they began to walk again, he allowed her to walk in front of him, but soon realized that they would need to keep pace with one another so that the rope didn’t become strained. 

“This is embarrassing,” he overheard her murmur under her breath. Iron Bull pretended not the hear it. From her behavior, it was fairly obviously that she hadn’t been raised under the Qun. And a mage taken from outside the Qun were typically forced to drink qamek. Not a fate that he thought she would be too happy with. 

When they got to the outskirts of town, Iron Bull looked around them, then helped her remove the leash. She huffed, “finally,” and scowled at Iron Bull’s hands, as if this were somehow his fault. He suppressed a sigh; she was certainly a fiery one, but that wasn’t necessarily going to make their journey together pleasant or fun. 

“Listen here, boss. Let’s lay down some ground rules.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest and kept his features neutral; he wasn’t trying to be intimidating, but she needed to pay attention, and follow instruction. “First, I wasn’t kidding about what I said back in the marketplace. For as long as you’re under my care, you need to listen to me.” 

He held up a hand before she could speak. “I know what you’re thinking, and your pride isn’t what’s important here. I know you weren’t trained among the Qunari.” She averted her gaze. “Among the Qun, mages are respected, but they don’t have equal rights. They need to be controlled and contained, hence the collar.” He dangled the leash again between them. “If anyone realizes you’re an unbound mage, without an Arvaarad, and an outsider to boot, you’ll either be killed or forced to drink qamek, which will wipe your mind clean. Worse than Tranquility.”

“What…what do you want me to do?”

Good, he thought. She’s taking this seriously. “Rule number one: If I give you an order or tell you to do something, you do it. No question.”

“Umm, what if you ask me to pass the salt?”

Iron Bull paused, mildly thrown off by her question. “Well…if I say ‘please,’ it’s a question. If I don’t, it’s an order.”

Ellana looked like she would protest again, and he held up another hand. “Let me finish. Rule number 2: If we’re around others, don’t talk unless I give the OK. Anything you say could give yourself away. I want to keep you safe, and that’s going to be harder if we’re not careful. This is in your best interest.”

“Rule number 3,” he examined her features again, “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. I’m going to put a priority on protecting you, but if you step out of line, that may change.” He wasn’t going to say what he was thinking; he had orders, and if he had to enlist help to suppress her abilities and haul her back to the Ben-Hassrath base kicking and screaming, he was going to do it. 

Ellana looked to the ground. “That sounds a lot like what the guards told me. Except they weren’t as nice about it.” She sighed. “I sometimes hate being a mage.”

She stepped up to him, close enough to almost touch, startling him. She reached up her hand, and for a moment he thought she would place it on his arm, but instead she tugged the leash out of his grip. “I guess this is mine.” 

He allowed it to slip out of his fingers. 

“Thanks again for your…help earlier. I don’t know what they would have done to me after how I electrocuted the guard.”

Iron Bull couldn’t suppress his burst of laughter. “I’m not sure if you needed much help. You seemed to be doing fine on your own.”

Ellana finally smiled back, and Iron Bull was surprised to find that the sight warmed him to the core. 

 

* * *

 

The distance to the Ben-Hassrath hold was about four days on horseback, almost a week and a half on foot. Iron Bull was accustomed to making these journeys back to headquarters alone. For the first two days, Ellana refused to converse more than polite chit-chat, so he spent a lot of that time thinking. 

Iron Bull’s thoughts wandered back to the man he had assassinated in New Thedas, and his talk of ‘freedom.’ When was the last time Iron Bull truly felt free? It never seemed important to him until recently, and he couldn’t help but remember the way Ellana had eyed the leash dangling in front of her face like a viper, how she had had tucked it away and he hadn’t caught site of it since. Stowed away, protected. 

For Bull, freedom felt like laughing without inhibition, which took him back many years to when he was a child. Sunlight and green fields, playing chase and catch with others his own age. There was no division yet between soldier, spy and priests…that would come later. He remembered one young Qunari with whom he had shared a close bond. Purple ribbons wrapped around her horns and braided into her silvery hair, a ready smile always on her lips. They held hands often, and had shared innocent kisses. 

She had been selected as a Saarebas, but Iron Bull couldn’t imagine her beautiful face locked behind a mask, tugged along by her Arvaarad with a collar and leash. Was she even still alive? Most Saarebas were treated like weapons, dangerous but powerful commodities. Did she embrace her position, or did she simmer with resentment, despair for freedom?

Iron Bull always thought he was fighting on the good side, and doing what was right. He didn’t feel so sure anymore. 

The sun was starting to set when he said, “let’s set up camp here.” He couldn’t help but direct, take control. That had always been in his nature.

Ellana obeyed without question. 

 

* * * 

 

Iron Bull woke with the sound of rustling by the fireside. He felt confused, disoriented; his first thought being that Ellana had been attacked in the middle of the night. The green sparks from her hand fizzled and grew brighter in the darkness, and he heard her wailing. The sound was unearthly, reminding him of demons from the fade, and made his hair stand on end. 

He realized there was no one else there, and while he couldn’t see very well because the fire had dimmed to slow-burning coals, Ellana was probably just having a nightmare. 

“Ellana?” The terrible sounds didn’t abate. He staggered to his feet, disoriented, and moved to her end of the campsite. 

“No, please stop, please!” he heard her say. 

“Ellana…” He touched her shoulder gently. She flailed, twisting away from his touch. “You have to wake up.” 

She bolted upright, panting hard. “Please, please,” she said in a trembling voice, “I’ll do anything!” 

“It’s okay,” he said in a soothing voice. He reached out his hand, but knew well enough not to try to touch her again…at least, not yet. “You’re safe. It was just a dream.” 

The reassurance didn’t seem to faze her. She gasped for air like she couldn’t have enough of it, as if she had almost drowned and wasn’t alone with him in the middle of the woods. Slowly, Iron Bull touched her back and made gentle circles, saying over and over, “It’s ok, you’re safe. It was just a dream. You’re here with me now.” 

“Oh, Iron Bull!” she cried, “I wish they would go away! I wish they would stop.” He paused, confused, and asked, “What do you mean?”

She covered her face with her hands. “The dreams. They won’t stop. I can’t make them stop.” 

Iron Bull hesitated, wondering how she might react, then pulled her close and hugged her to his chest. Ellana stiffened for only a few seconds, but then clung to him, pulling him closer. 

“I had heard mages sometimes have trouble sleeping,” he asked carefully. “If this has anything to do with demons…”

“No, it’s not that,” her voice sounded wet again, “I can’t talk about it. I can’t tell anyone.” 

His embrace tightened, but he told her, “You only have to do or say what makes you comfortable. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine, but you might feel better getting this off your chest. This sounds like something you’ve been carrying with you for a while.” 

“Oh, Iron Bull,” she wailed again, burying herself in his embrace. “they’re all dead. Everyone in my clan is dead! My family is gone.” 

His lips twisted, and he stroked her back. “I’m sorry.”

Ellana started shaking like a leaf, and he could tell that she was crying. He didn’t know how else to help, so he just stayed there with her. He had lost many friends and battle companions over the years; just the part of the nature of his job, high risk, and sometimes frontline operative. The truth was that he hadn’t worked with the Qunari who had raised him or who were raised with him. The Qunari didn’t have a traditional foundation of a family, and the clan they were meant to identify with was the Qun as a whole. 

“I sometimes see them in my dreams,” she said in a thick voice. “I call out to them and try to help, but they can’t hear me. They die over and over again in my sleep.” 

“Maybe we could gather some herbs to help you sleep better,” he suggested. “I heard that Ardor’s Blessing is effective for that.” 

“Yes, that might be good.” Ellana’s eyes slipped shut. “I should have saved them, Iron Bull. I should have done more to help. 

He didn’t want to ask her any more details after she had explicitly told him she didn’t want to talk about what happened. He was curious, though. Was this some kind of elven clan out in the woods? The Qun had pretty much taken over most of Thedas, so this couldn’t have been a group living close by. Unless…

“Did the Qunari do this to your clan?” 

Ellana shook her head. “No, it had nothing to do with them.” She sighed. “I suppose we should try to sleep a little more before day breaks.”

His breath caught, but he asked anyway, “are you going to sleep next to me?”

He was surprised when she responded with, “Yes.” 

Iron Bull drew her close, and pulled her to his chest. She settled against him, conforming to his hard angles, her cheek pressed into his chest. “thank you,” she whispered.

Iron Bull stroked her hair. “It’s going to be okay.” She sighed with either exhaustion or contentment, her movements growing still. 

Iron Bull studied Ellana’s tranquil features under the soft cast of what remained of the camp fire. He wasn’t sure where this surge of tenderness welling up in his chest was coming from. She was very pretty and nice enough, but she was also a stranger, one with a better understanding of demons and spirits than he would ever care to know. Still, something about tonight made him feel a wave of protectiveness. He wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to her, but it had obviously done more than shake her up.

He could use his training as a spy to ply information from her without her even realizing she was being manipulated, and truthfully, he _should_ do so, as she was part of his mission and any information uncovered would undoubtedly be useful once he brought her to base.

He didn’t have any direct instructions, though, to dig into her past, and while he may not understand her pain, he did see that her clan's death had caused an internal wound, one that had been bleeding out for quite some time. He wondered what he could do to help that wound finally heal up. 

Contemplating this to himself, Iron Bull finally drifted off to sleep right before the first rays of light touched the star splattered sky.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for suggested dub-con/non-con.

“Whoa there, brother.”

Iron Bull braced his arm in front of Ellana without thinking. While he had purchased a robe for her before leaving the last village, hoping that it might provide an adequate disguise, her abilities might be detectable to certain people. There was also that weird green glow that sometimes emanated from her hand. The fur lining of her robe brought out the green of her eyes, which she cast to the ground when the soldier began to study her.

About seven Qunari soldiers were camped several paces away. They didn’t touch their weapons and approached with a casual ease, but it was best to keep Ellana’s background hidden. Ben-Hassrath orders or no, if they realized she was a free, untamed mage, they would probably try to kill her.

He cleared his throat. “Hey there, brother.”

One of the Qunari soldiers, who was at least a foot taller than Iron Bull and quite a bit stockier, stepped forward. There was a network of small battle scars across his face and neck, but otherwise his features were handsome. He took Ellana’s chin in hand and tilted it up. She looked over his shoulder, seemingly repelled from making eye contact.

“Your tattoos,” he murmured, “Look nothing like what I see of the Dalish around these parts. I’ve seen them out west, from some of the wild ones lurking in the forest.”

Iron Bull couldn’t help but rest his hand on her shoulder in a quiet show of possessiveness, and felt the muscles of Ellana’s shoulder tense. The soldier eventually dropped his hand.

“I am the Captain General,” the Qunari said, looking up to meet Iron Bull’s one good eye. “We are patrolling the area for demons and malevolent spirits. It isn’t safe to be out here alone, or even in small groups.”

“We’ve nearly reached the closest village. It should only be another day or two on foot.”

“We can escort you there,” the Captain General offered.

Iron Bull paused, debating on the best course of action. An ‘offer’ from any high ranking officer in the Qunari army was as good as an order.

“The sun will be setting soon. Come, camp with us, and we’ll part ways in the morning. We can replenish your supplies.”

Iron Bull felt tension drain from his form. “That would be great.” He waved to Ellana. “My companion is sick, so she’ll need to retire early.”

Ellana touched his hand, fingers encircling his wrist and squeezing slightly. He ignored it.

The Captain General gave him a wide smile, and held out his hand. Iron Bull shook it.

“There are not many Qunari around these parts brave enough to move about the woods alone.” Iron Bull noted that he completely overlooked Ellana in that statement, but considering her tiny stature, it probably looked like she couldn’t carry her own in a fight. 

“One of the soldiers killed a Druffalo. We were planning to roast it for dinner.” In response, Iron Bull’s stomach grumbled. It had been a long time since he had had a hot meal.

Several hours later, Iron Bull sat around the campfire with some of the soldiers, while Ellana slept in one of the tents. They passed around a bottle of Thedas liquor and enjoyed the cool night air, trading stories of recent battles.

Iron Bull fought the tug of sleep. He wanted to make sure that all the soldiers had retired to their tents, to keep Ellana safe. After a while, all but three remained around the campfire, drinking and talking. The Captain General seemed the most interested in talking to Iron Bull, and was casually twirling a knife in his hand while they spoke.

“Tell me,” said the Captain General, leaning a little too close for Iron Bull’s comfort, “What is your position? You have the build of a soldier and you carry around an axe, but you’re not with any military unit.”

“I work for the Ben-Hassrath,” Iron Bull admitted reluctantly. “I may not be a part of any unit that you can see, but I have orders just like anyone else under the Qun.”

“Ah,” the Captain General murmured. “A spy or assassin?”

“Both.”

He chuckled. “I would get bored and restless without the promise of battle, but the Ben-Hassrath serve an important purpose.” The Qunari’s smile fell away, and he turned the knife in his hand slowly, in a way that seemed measured and calculated. “Tell me more about your companion.”

Iron Bull’s mouth went dry. He had been side-stepping conversations about Ellana all night. “What about her?”

“Where did you meet her?”

“I’ve known her for a while,” he lied. “She needed help passing through the forest, and I offered to escort her.” _Well, that was more or less the truth,_ he thought.

“Her tattoos are exotic. Most Dalish tattoos are dark, but hers are delicate and light.”

Iron Bull shrugged. “They look good, but she’s a pretty thing anyway. I don’t think the tattoos make much of a difference.”

“Have you tried her?”

Iron Bull froze; if he had taken a swig of the liquor, it would have spewed out across the fire, igniting the flames. “What?”

The Captain General wasn’t laughing anymore, but stared at Iron Bull with glittering dark eyes. “Have you sampled your companion? What is she like?”

Iron Bull shook his head. “No, nothing has happened.” Not that he hadn’t thought of it, but the way the taller Qunari talked about it gave him the creeps.

“Can I?” He nodded to the other soldiers around the fire, who had stopped talking and were giving Iron Bull measured looks. “Will you let us?”

Iron Bull shook his head. “I didn’t realize random strangers in the woods were an option for on-duty soldiers. Isn’t that what priests are for? That’s one of their responsibilities, after all.”

The Captain General laughed again, slow and deep. “Has it been that long since you’ve worked alongside your fellow Qunari, brother? We are the dominant race. The humans and elves from the west will eventually capitulate, and all will be under the Qunari, who are directed by the Qun. Every being serves a purpose, and the enemy of today will be in service to us tomorrow.”

Iron Bull felt chills run down his neck and arms. “That doesn’t explain why you’re asking permission to…” He couldn’t finish the sentence.

“I didn’t know if you had any claim to her,” the Captain General said slowly. “You never let move more than five paces come between you two until she went into the tent.”

Something twisted in his gut, dark and acidic. “She’s off-limits. Don’t ask me again.”

“Of course, brother,” the larger Qunari replied, but one side of his mouth tilted down in a subtle sneer. Iron Bull knew the Captain General was probably not accustomed to being denied anything.

Iron Bull’s weariness was overridden with a surge of adrenaline. He did his best to continue the small talk until it was just himself and the Captain General who remained by the fire.

“If you’re interested in switching to the militia, let me know. I can talk to the right people to have you transferred from the Ben-Hassrath. We need more courageous, able-bodied fighters.”

Iron Bull did his best to quell his shock. “I’ve never heard of transfers. Once you’re picked for a role, that’s it.”  
The Captain General smirked again. “You are mistaken about many things, brother. Times are changing. Sometimes important decisions override tradition.”

“I guess.” 

He waited until the Captain General excused himself, then slipped into the tent where Ellana slept. He sat there, waiting patiently until the camp had gone completely quiet, then waited some more. Eventually, he shook Ellana awake. She looked up at him with a start.

He put a finger before his lips. “Shh. We’re leaving now.”

She nodded, but studied his face in what was probably curiosity or confusion. Gathering their belongings, they escaped into the night, and kept a steady and fast pace until the Captain General’s campsite was far behind them.

 

* * *

 

These feelings were so strange to Iron Bull; loyalty to his people strained by doubts, questions swirling in his head until he felt restless, wanting to find _some_ way to release his turbulent emotions. Charge into battle, swing left and right, don’t think. There were no doubts or confusion in a fight, only the adrenaline that fired through his veins. Like being drunk, but everything sharp and clear instead of fuzzy. The only right and wrong, good and evil was Iron Bull versus his opponent.

He had suspected for a long time that the Qunari ranks were becoming corrupt, and the Captain Commander’s behavior had confirmed this. The validation of his fears was no less disturbing. 

Iron Bull glanced at Ellana, taking in her relaxed features as they walked together along the river. Her reaction had been surprisingly calm when he had explained to her the Captain Commander’s ‘request.’ Her lips had parted, and she had whispered, “you protected me. You took me away from them to keep me safe.” Before Iron Bull had time to react, her arms had encircled his chest as she squeezed him into a hug. “Thank you.”

He had placed a hand on her back and said softly, “You’re welcome.” 

Now there was another growing discomfort. There was no denying that he had been attracted to Ellana from the beginning, but what had started out as slow burning coals was now a stoked fire. He wanted to protect her, but also possess her, to find a way to make her his. The shocking implications of the Captain Commander’s suggestions, and his fierce protectiveness, had unlocked something that was eating away at his control and slowly consuming him. 

He was careful now not to brush past her, because any simple touch sent waves of heat across his skin. When Ellana touched his arm, it made him painfully hard, and he refused to look at her for several miles until he was able to subdue his erection. He had a brief image of her on her knees, looking up at him with big eyes, eager to please, and suppressed a growl of frustration.

“What’s wrong, Iron Bull?” Ellana had asked, her eyebrows furrowed in concern. “Why won’t you look at me when we speak?” 

Iron Bull observed a suddenly fascinating shoot of Elfroot a few paces before them. “We have to stay vigilant. There are demons and mercenaries in these woods. Something might come after us if we’re distracted.”

Ellana nodded slowly. “Yes, vigilant.”

Thankfully, that was the only time Ellana had asked about his increasingly bizarre behavior. Iron Bull thought of the fast approaching Ben-Hassrath headquarters with an ambivalent sense of dread and relief. Once he completed his mission, he probably wouldn’t see Ellana again, and this attraction to a wild mage would fade from his mind with the next mission. On the other hand, he didn’t have a clue what the Ben-Hassrath had planned for her, but he suspected the outcome would not be good for Ellana. 

“Iron Bull,” Ellana asked, “Why did that Qunari Commander ask you permission to have sex with me?”

Iron Bull grimaced. “How do I put this…he assumed you belonged to me, or that I had some claim over you. It would have been in…poor taste if he had his way with you without getting my nod of approval.”

Ellana shivered. “Are all women among the Qunari treated that way?”

Iron Bull shook his head. “The conquest of Thedas changed things. While all are technically equal under the Qun, there is a hierarchal structure that must be respected. Conquered people are on the bottom rung. When those in a higher position of power make demands, which are supposed to be in the best interest of the whole, they’re expected to be fulfilled without question.  
The problem is that because orders are never questioned, if a high level officer gives a command in self-interest, a lower level officer might feel compelled to fulfill it. Even if they doubted the orders given to them, they probably wouldn’t say anything and would just do what they’re told to do.”

“So if the Captain Commander had told me to sleep with him, he would have just expected me to comply without question?”

“He might have expected some resistance, but not much of a fight.” Iron Bull’s voice softened. “It’s still a surprise, though. I’ve never heard of high ranking officers making those kind of demands.”

“Do you think he would have tried anyway, even if you told him no?”

“I don’t know. That’s why I wanted us to leave.”

Ellana bit her lip but didn’t say anything. There was nothing he could tell her that would make her feel better unless he felt like bending the truth. In recent times, this was the reality of the Qun.

Still, as they walked side by side, he couldn’t help but reach out and place a hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. After only a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand over his. 

“You seem different…you’re not like the rest of the Qun.”

Iron Bull quirked an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”

“We don’t really know each other, you don’t owe me anything, but you’ve gone out of your way to protect me. You seem to genuinely care. I owe you my life for everything you’ve done to help.”

Iron Bull squeezed her shoulder, but something welled up in his chest, and he felt his heart beat faster. “You belong to me, Ellana. I won’t let anyone else touch you as long as you’re by my side.” 

Iron Bull couldn’t help but notice her cheeks flush red. “Can a person really belong to a person? I’m not a thing.”

“It’s not like that,” Iron Bull said slowly. “If you allow me to take control, I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to worry about your past, what happened to your people and your lost memories. I’ll keep you safe and give you what you need.” 

Ellana’s breath caught, and he thought she was finally understanding what he was trying to say. “How would I give up control to you?”

Iron Bull’s grip on her shoulder involuntarily tightened, and he forced himself to relax. “As much as you feel comfortable giving. There are things we can do that include watchwords; if you don’t like something, we’ll stop. But I think you’ll like it. A lot.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Anticipation settled in his stomach. “Maybe I’d tie your hands over your head, or hold you down. Give you commands.”

Ellana frowned. “What do you get out of this?”

He chuckled. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be just fine.”

She didn’t say anything, so he eventually dropped his hand and tried to ignore his disappointment. Iron Bull had experienced his fair share of sexual partners, but they had all been more than willing, and he wouldn’t pressure Ellana to offer something she wasn’t willing to give. 

The way Ellana kept glancing at him under dark lashes, as if sizing him up for the first time, gave him hope that the seed he had planted had taken root, and would continue to grow.


End file.
